


Love & Loss: Prologue

by Kam14, Thebiwife, wonderofasunrise



Series: Love & Loss [1]
Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27798577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kam14/pseuds/Kam14, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebiwife/pseuds/Thebiwife, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderofasunrise/pseuds/wonderofasunrise
Summary: The nature of human existence is that, even when it seems to be so, it is never linear; something that is exemplified all too perfectly by our favourite doctors and nurses of County General Hospital.Whilst they may perform what we would deem small miracles within the realms of the Emergency department, once the doors to the trauma room swing shut, these heroes in flimsy yellow gowns are exactly like you and me. Just as the lives of their patients hang between the balance of life and death, so do their personal lives fluctuate between being touched by love and laughter and, in the same strand, by loss and grief.Join Mark, Susan, Kerry, Elizabeth, Carter, Abby, Carol, and others in a chronological exploration of the ways in which love—be it romantic, familial, or platonic—and loss—be it through distance or death—shape the decisions that they make, both for themselves and for others who weave in and out of their lives.
Relationships: Carol Hathaway/Doug Ross, Elizabeth Corday/Mark Greene
Series: Love & Loss [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033827
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Love & Loss: Prologue

And with Mark’s death, the tone—the only thing that ever seemed constant around the ever-moving, ever-changing Emergency Room at County General Hospital—had been changed forever. Over the years, faces had come and gone, but Mark’s, it seemed, had always been around; always present during moments of joy, moments of grief, and moments of intense pressure. Mark had been everybody’s touchstone, whether they (some people more than others) wanted to admit it or not. 

As the congregation of his family, friends, and colleagues gathered around what was soon to be his grave, it became all too apparent that every life Mark had touched in one way or another would never be exactly the same again. After the service, the congregation had all been invited to the wake, which was being held at Elizabeth’s house. Susan, Kerry, Abby, Carol, and Doug had all chosen to gather in the kitchen, some electing to indulge in a drink or to pick at some of the snacks that had been laid out on the counter and others looking as if the mere thought of food was enough to turn their stomachs. After a few moments of contemplative silence, Susan finally spoke.

“It almost doesn’t feel real. I keep expecting him to walk through that kitchen door any minute now,” she offered shakily, gesturing towards the open doorway. “I just can’t…” she hesitated before continuing, seeing as she felt an overwhelming need to voice the indescribable emotions she was feeling, “I just can’t imagine a life that will ever be as good without Mark in it.” A couple of interjections of agreement were offered and were followed, once again, by a further few moments of silence. “I’m just thankful I had the chance to say a proper goodbye,” Susan lamented, “and to be there for him in his final months”.

“I wish we had known sooner,” Doug began in response, giving Carol’s arm a gentle nudge. “If we had known sooner, we’d have flown back to Chicago and stayed for a while; spent some time with Mark while we still could. We’d have…”

“…we’d have helped Elizabeth out. God knows it must have been hard for her in his last few months,” Carol chimed in. “It’s a hard pill to swallow, finding out that one of your closest friends has just died of cancer which you didn’t even know he had. What kind of friends does that make us?” she asked, turning to look over at Doug and then back down at the tiled floor. 

Just as Carol finished speaking, the group’s attention was turned to a flustered-looking Elizabeth, who entered the kitchen rubbing her temples somewhat vigorously.

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Abby began gently. She was about to ask if everything was okay but stopped herself from doing so just in time; everything was most certainly not okay, especially in Elizabeth’s world.

“I just needed to get away from it all for a little while; his family, mine, the multitude of photos of him that are dotted around the living room…I just needed…”,she stopped, as if not knowing what to say next, “…I don’t know what, or whom, I needed. The one person...the one person I really needed isn’t here,” she swallowed, her eyes beginning to glaze over.

It was not lost on the rest of them that at that exact moment there was nothing anyone could say that could provide even just the slightest of comfort and assurance to Elizabeth, though the air was filled with an array of thoughts and things to say that nobody really wanted to pick up, because what was the point? Whatever anyone could say would bring nothing more than emptiness, and everyone knew it was the last thing Elizabeth needed, so they decided to let her be as she grieved the loss of her beloved and tried her best to come to terms that Mark was no more, that in the next morning she would wake up alone without his familiar smile greeting her.

An uncomfortable and deafening silence quickly filled the kitchen, which was later broken by Kerry clearing her throat. Much to the surprise of everyone else, she looked almost as flustered and grief-stricken as Elizabeth was, and tears were still pooling in her eyes as she leaned wearily against the kitchen counter, her right hand holding on to her crutch in a tight grip as if it could somehow ease things for her at this exact moment.

“We might have had our disagreements,” Kerry began, her voice barely above a whisper. “But he—he was a damn good doctor, and a good man. Nothing could ever change that.”

Susan, Abby, Carol, and Doug nodded. They knew firsthand how often Kerry and Mark had butted heads, and shortly before his wedding to Elizabeth it had been revealed that Kerry had arranged for his professional competency to be evaluated after an episode of aphasia following his brain surgery, which had angered him and Elizabeth so much Kerry hadn't been invited to their wedding. Still, it was evident that, all in all, they had had mutual respect for each other, which only became clear with her reaction to Mark’s death. She had been so distraught at the burial, and had spoken only scarcely since the wake had started. Again, no one dared to intrude and disrupt her silence, as everyone was still figuring out what to do with Kerry Weaver in times of personal crisis like this one.

“And may I say,” Kerry said after a long pause, her voice now almost held back by the tears that had started streaming down her face yet again, “he was a very good friend. I know…it didn’t look that way, but he was more than just a colleague to me. He was a friend, and a great one.”

They all nodded again, though this time the nods were accompanied by looks of (mild) curiosity. All eyes were now on Kerry, as if they had been trying to guess whether her words had been genuine. Susan, now unable to contain her own tears, placed a hand on Kerry’s shoulder, and was relieved when the latter did not shrug it off—Kerry usually being the sort to put up walls far too high for anyone to attempt to climb. In turn, Abby gave Susan’s free hand a gentle squeeze, the three women deciding that a light physical gesture could somehow ease the pain they all felt. Carol let out a small smile as the sight before leaning her head against Doug’s shoulder, who then proceeded to raise one hand holding a half-full bottle of beer.

Susan couldn’t deny she felt comforted for the first time since Mark had admitted his illness was back. Feeling the pulse in her cold hand she squeezed Abby’s hand back, knowing it was her turn to say something, something she was struggling to put into words. She heard her own heart beating in her ears as her brain went into overdrive, trying to pick up the pieces, the sentiments of love and loss beneath the rubble that buried every thought and feeling she’d ever had for her best friend. 

“Mark was much better at this,” Susan laughed nervously, so quiet that only Kerry and Abby had heard her at first. “Always knowing what to say, with no plan or...rehearsal.”

The rest of the group began to turn toward her, their conversations quieting as their attention moved in her direction. “All I know to say is that although we have lost our leader, our colleague…our great friend, look what we’ve found. Give or take a few faces I owe it to Mark for giving me the opportunity to discover the love and friendship of everyone in this room right now, and we all owe it to him to keep him at the center, at the beating heart of this home he built for us all.”

And so they all raised their hands, holding their respective drinks high as they quietly toasted in memory of Mark Greene, and all the while the air was once again filled with an array of thoughts, this time largely consisting of everyone’s own moments of love and loss all flooding back in slow motion.

  
  



End file.
